Socialisation
by Bleach-ed-Na-tsu
Summary: Rokudo Mukuro was a strange man. He laughed at the most unusual moments and could never read the mood. He ignored visual cues and was always putting his foot in his mouth. But he could hardly be blamed; he had spent his childhood as a test subject and his adolescence as a prisoner. But he was learning. AU maybe?


**So this is LONG overdue….like, this should have come out at the same time as 'He Holds Nations' and is yet another phenomenal prompt by my bae SkyGem. It has been rather…touch and go for me with this fic. It is rather difficult to write, because (and maybe this is my reading too much into the plot and my writing) I've questioned myself and my own socialisation a lot. So I hope you take this as me almost doing a character study for my philosophy/Environmental ethics class, since we touch upon various topic within this fic.**

 **Warning: Maybe triggering topics …I don't really know. ALSO Extremely OoC Mukuro, and Tsuna. Slight Iemitsu bashing, though minor to my usual.**

* * *

Socialisation

 **Summary:** Rokudo Mukuro was a strange man. He laughed at the most unusual moments and could never read the mood. He ignored visual cues and was always putting his foot in his mouth. But he could hardly be blamed; he had spent his childhood as a test subject and his adolescence as a prisoner. But he was learning. AU maybe?

* * *

The first thing Mukuro sees when he finally wakes up is not a hospital, is not Chrome being overbearingly close, isn't even really unfamiliar.

What he sees is a room he's seen a hundred times before from when Tsuna let their consciousness's overlap, both when Mukuro is in Vindice and also when he was in a coma recovering.

Tsuna's room, in the underground base, still unfinished but at least isolated and comfortably safe, is plain, a muted burnt orange with white trim and white furniture, including a rather make-shift looking desk. Apparently (as far as Mukuro had gleamed from the shared memories, of which he gave as many as he took) Tsuna had insisted on a more comfortable desk in his room, if he was forced to have the ornate antique in his office.

Tsuna is sitting beside Mukuro, and the illusionist is suddenly aware of the voice he's been listening to for the past hour. It's Tsuna's voice, reading some poetry in Italian. Tsuna doesn't look up, though Mukuro knows the sky knows he's awake. Instead Tsuna lets Mukuro feel first, let's Mukuro breathe and get familiar with the surroundings.

It's the realisation that this Tsunayoshi, twenty this October, so very grown up, is not the same Tsuna who screeched and barely beat Mukuro when he was fourteen, and it makes Mukuro laugh, testing his new body –his _actual_ body.

Because really, he isn't the same Mukuro either. He isn't the sixteen year old who had just escaped from prison. He's the twenty-two year old mist who's just been saved by the sky at his side.

"Kufufufu, I hope I didn't keep you long, Tsunayoshi." How strange, his voice was rather deeper than he remembered, even in ten year later memories.

Tsuna just smiled, and Mukuro had to admit it relieved him of some undo anxieties. As did the next few words the man uttered, expecting nothing of Mukuro, and expecting everything. "You never do, Mukuro."

* * *

The first time Mukuro realises that he is in trouble is when he and the guardians are meeting with some members of some –of little consequence –family. It is also at this time that he notices that perhaps he has been too ignorant of his surroundings, because surely this cannot be the first time.

All the guardians are there. All of them are comfortable, in suits and with weapons barely hidden. But not their Vongola weapons, all of them carry glocks and are not worried in the least about being hurt by this famiglia.

The conversations had started pleasantly. They were trying for a tentative –trial –alliance. Except, Tsuna laid down the law. He laid down his ideals, what he wouldn't _let_ happen.

Mukuro thought it rather amusing when Tsuna got riled. Especially since he had long since passed looking as he emoted. He only ever emoted outwardly amongst the family, and close allies. Those who weren't _trusted_ never so much as got a flutter of eyelashes if Tsuna didn't want them to.

It amused Mukuro to no ends to watch dignified bosses crumble under the stillness –of a once rumoured, flinchy –Tsuna.

"What do you think this is, Decimo?" The boss hissed. Mukuro laughed lightly, the man had a lisp. How funny.

Takeshi snorted from beside him, though Mukuro got the distinct impression that it was not for the same reason. Takeshi always seemed to find something in the lines of others speech. He covered it with a cough though –it sounded convincing –though Mukuro didn't understand _why_ he'd cover it up.

Tsuna just cocked an eyebrow. "I think this is a negotiation. One I will win, because there are a few things I will not tolerate. Asking to use my name as a negotiation point, when you plan to take over one of _my_ towns is not going to be tolerated, Alberto."

There was a hiss from the boss' guards. Mukuro knew why this time at least. Alberto De Christo has honoured Tsuna –a younger boss –with his title, Decimo. Tsuna however, had called him by his first name, an injustice apparently. Tsuna put himself above Alberto.

Mukuro sighed, because he might understand the mechanics, but not the insult. Tsunayoshi –nay, _all_ of the guardians –were in fact, above Alberto.

"You dare insult my offer, Decimo?" And there it was again, that lips. It made the poor man sound so unintelligent. Mukuro couldn't help it, the laugh got louder. Alberto scowled at him before continuing. "I'm giving you _my_ name. You need to make sacrifices, as I do."

Mukuro snorts loudly, almost obnoxiously, and he doesn't try to hide it as Takeshi had, instead he lets his belly laugh. "Kufufufufufuf."

When it cannot be politely ignored, the famiglia threatening Tsuna turn on Mukuro. "What's so funny, Mukuro?" the boss growl. And Mukuro just laughs more.

He doesn't notice the tension in everyone's shoulders. His first mistake he'd learn.

"Kufufufufu, I'm laughing at your pathetic annunciation. Is the Chrisiano famiglia so poor they cannot even afford to educate their upper echelon?"

The tension spikes again and a few guardians actually face-palm. They had thought they'd get away with this. Mukuro had been quiet up until this point. They just thanked their stars that this wasn't an important alliance meeting.

As soon as the Don had refused polite debate, and went straight to threatening he had basically given up his chance.

He knew that too, because with a sniff he stood, scowling at Tsuna. "I think this will not work. Good day, Sawada." He hiss again, and Mukuro just cackled, because the man did not make it easy for himself with that fucking lisp.

The door clicked with finality and everyone sighed. Ryohei actually leant his head against his hands, his elbows on his knees. Mukuro recognised this pose as one of defeat –which was weird, none of them _cared_ about this alliance. Takeshi had this awkward smile –it _felt_ awkward to look at. Chrome was blinking too, shocked. Mukuro didn't understand that.

"Che, you fucking idiot." Hayato drawled, but it had long since been established that Hayato wasn't insulting when he spoke with harsh words, not to the guardians. Family to Hayato was above all else (though Mukuro didn't completely understand this for a while yet). "You're not supposed to point that shit out."

"Che, and that was a rather serious meeting, herbivore." Kyouya seemed more exhausted than annoyed though.

Mukuro just blinked, scowling and waxing poetry about how pathetic everyone was. Because, as he stated in hidden verses, it was rather obvious so why not. Besides, the threats were well noted, Mukuro wouldn't let those people sleep for a long time for daring to threaten what little stability Mukuro had in his life.

But everyone rolls their eyes, silently making vows never to end up as Mukuro's partner when he happened to be sent out as a dignitary. Because obviously for all his fit and flare, Mukuro is a bigger idiot than Ryohei.

No one notices Tsuna's stunned expression, nor the flash of gold.

Because _yes obviously_ Mukuro didn't understand. How could he?

* * *

Mukuro had to admit, he had been somewhat –no very –concerned about the child guardian. Lambo. Mukuro knew of all the power and poison of the mafia on young bloods. Lambo was so very young. So young in body and mind.

The boy was mature in a painful way, he jumped _timelines_ for god sake. But he was so young. Mukuro thanked Tsuna so often –for saving Mukuro, for saving Chrome, for not being like all the other Mafiosi who said they were _different_ –but he also thanked Tsuna for being there for Lambo and I-pin, and Fuuta. Mukuro still didn't know whether he was forgiven or how to interact with the boy he had almost harmed.

Tsuna let Lambo be a child, not a mafia child either, and Mukuro knew –even if Lambo didn't yet –knew that Lambo would always have a choice.

He had even chosen to live with Tsuna and the other guardians in their underground base. All the children did, and when they'd explained their seriousness to Tsuna, he had done all in his power to get custody for the children.

Nana had cried, and Iemitsu had looked funny. Mukuro still didn't know what exactly Iemitsu was trying to twist his face into, to this day. Tsuna hadn't relented though, and for that Mukuro was inexplicable happy.

What he wasn't happy for, and didn't hide it either, was Iemitsu crashing into their living room. Laughing, and ruffling hair and swinging arms around the guardians. Mukuro was uncomfortable with the man in his home (he remembered what the man thought he could do with Chrome after all). It looked like the others were uncomfortable too. That made Mukuro feel better.

Tsuna was elsewhere, which was why Hayato ducked out –growling at Iemitsu to stay put –while he went to find the sky.

Which left Mukuro and Chrome, and Takeshi in the room with Iemitsu. Though Takeshi was kind of drifting off.

Mukuro wasn't exactly bothered by the silence, he was very much used to empty silence. But Iemitsu was shifting, which was annoying as all hells. The man did look relieved however, when Lambo and I-Pin burst into the room.

Lambo was crying, and I-Pin looked twisted with worry.

Lambo was twelve now, much more stable now that he had Tsuna as a constant guardian, but that didn't mean he was over his crying stage. No one ever did, in Mukuro's opinion.

Takeshi was up in an instant, and Mukuro was somewhat surprised at himself when he was too. Takeshi was beside Lambo, rubbing his back and letting the boy hold him, and Mukuro was looking for some injury. Chrome has gone to I-Pin.

"What happened, I-Pin?"

"Chrome-nee! Lambo and I were playing in the gardens when he got stung by bees." I-Pin sounded panicked.

And then Lambo's crying got louder when Takeshi pulled at his hand, trying to find the stingers. His eyes were scouring, and Mukuro joined. Bees were not to be messed with.

Especially if- "Are you allergic, Lambo?" He asked, no laughter.

And then the panting started, hyperventilating that made Lambo's crying worse and made him shake. Takeshi had to force the boy into stillness to search his hands and arms and neck. All th visible flesh –Lambo was just too panicked to tell where he had been stung, and I-Pin didn't know.

Apparently Lambo had been stung as a child, with Tsuna. Apparently he had a fever, and his hands had swelled up, and that he didn't remember.

Takeshi kissed his teeth and pushed Lambo into Mukuro. "I'm going to get Ryohei and Tsuna. I've never been stung before."

And with that he was gone. Mukuro thought he should have stayed, he was a _rain_. But then again, none of them thought too clearly when _their own_ were hurting, and they weren't in a dangerous situation.

Somehow or another Iemitsu had traipsed across the room and pulled Lambo from Mukuro. Mukuro snarled at the man and tried to get Lambo back, but Iemitsu had none of it.

Iemitsu just ruffled Lambo's hair, laughing about men needing to be strong. He told Lambo not to worry; that he was being _silly_. He would _know_ if he was allergic, Iemitsu insisted; Lambo was being silly. When Lambo continued to cry Iemitsu grabbed his arm and spun the boy around, eyes hard. "Boys don't cry, Lambo. Suck it up."

And Mukuro feels a cold stone of unease in his stomach from where he stands in the room. Because, as far as he was concerned, emotions –such as crying, and aggression, and loving, and gentleness –were _human_ emotions. Not male or female.

He voiced as much with an angry snarl just as Tsuna walked into the room, followed by a few of the guardians.

"What would you about that, you're an experiment and a criminal." Iemitsu scoffed, he pulled at Lambo again, panicking the boy more.

But then Tsuna had Lambo shoved into Ryohei's hands (who was applying some baking-soda concoction to the stings) and was in Iemitsu's face, eyes glassy orange, and fire on his tongue.

"What did I say about speaking to mine like that, Iemitsu?" Tsuna prowled forward, and Iemitsu tried to puff up. But he was a loan hyena amongst the pride of lions.

"You need to man them up, Tsuna. They're soft, a baby and a criminal. They aren't wor-."

Iemitsu never got to speak to him, because Tsuna had Iemitsu by the cuff and was dragging him out the door. "You won't speak again. How I teach Lambo is my business, it was my business before I had custody of Lambo and it is my business now that I do. And If I hear you so much as mention my mist's name with anything less than the awe he (or any of mine guardians) deserve I'll -." But Tsuna was down the hall and Mukuro heard no more.

Awkward in social situations or not, Mukuro would have to be truly inept if he didn't feel the tension and anger in the room. As well as the relief in the sighs when Ryohei stepped back and kissed Lambo's forehead.

"You're going to be extremely okay. We're going to keep an eye on those stings, but there's not too much swelling now." Ryohei kissed Lambo's forehead again for good measure before gesturing with his chin. "Let's all have some tea and ice-cream, hmm?"

"Thank you, Mukuro." Lambo muttered, a hand grabbing Mukuro's fingers for a second before he's leaving with Hayato and Ryohei.

Tsuna mirrored the motion when he came back. Making sure Mukuro hadn't been hurt by Iemitsu's words. He hadn't, he had been more concerned by the simply misguided words the man had spouted. Emotions were difficult to control at the best of times, but surely Mukuro wasn't expected to pretend that he didn't love and cherish as much as he fought and beat?

* * *

It's when Chrome is refused entrance to a men's club where a meeting between dons is being help that Mukuro wonders if perhaps he is blessed by being so clueless in social situations. Because to have such clarity when his guardian partners and boss seem so….used to such actions seems a blessing for a moment.

"But why is it that way?" Mukuro growled, standing up and almost bowling the messenger over with the force of his flames. "Pray tell why Chrome cannot join us? She carries the same rank as any of us."

The messenger looked red faced, and he turned to Tsuna for support, but was met with these glass-like orange eyes and knew he was getting no aide. He should have known that the Decimo of all people would not stand for principle.

"Maa maa, no need to get so angry, Mukuro." Takeshi tried to placate. He got between

"It's just the way things are, Mukuro-sama." Chrome whispered with a smile. I'll wait here for you, don't-."

"But it shouldn't be!" Mukuro roared, and Chrome shrank back at his tone.

"No." Tsuna said, his voice a balm and suddenly everyone was eyes on him. "No, it shouldn't be. Chrome, you will accompany us. I didn't realise how poor an example we set by accepting this. You are our guardian, woman or not."

All the guardians seemed to flail a little, and Mukuro was huffing. But as one they seemed to come to the same conclusion. "It's rather against principle…but these fucking Mafia dons are archaic. They need some slapping about." And with that, Hayato extended his arm and led Chrome into the club.

* * *

Mukuro, at almost twenty five, would have thought all the socialisation he had lost out on would be affixed to his person. But apparently it wasn't.

Apparently you never _stopped_ learning social norms. Especially since they changed so often.

Dino had come to visit, and with it some stories and wine. Soon enough everyone was lulled into soft conversations about their pasts. Funny childhood stories and little embarrassing anecdotes. Mukuro enjoyed this, because while he had few to offer –in fact no one asked him too, and were respectful and rapt when he did –he was able to gleam information off the experiences of others.

Still, he wanted to join in the laughter and remembered a story that amused the guardians to the day.

"I have one about our dear Ryohei." Mukuro teased, and everyone started laughing. Ryohei was quite a character, all of them had stories about messing around with Ryohei. Almost all of them were welcome to share. Except they were usually your own.

Dino lent forward, "Oh really?"

"Indeed. It was a few years ago, and our lovely dunderhead was asked by his Hana to go out on a date with him. Apparently he was taking too long to ask, though she's always been the most forward one hasn't she?"

Ryohei suddenly appeared behind Dino, eyebrows crushed into an angry expression and flailing. _Strange_ , Mukuro thought, because Ryohei was making rather sudden cutting motions over his throat. How odd, what an uncouth motion. Mukuro had no intention of slitting Dino's throat. Of one thing, Mukuro was sure that Tsunayoshi would not appreciate the blood, nor the death of a 'brother'.

"Kufufufu, and then, if you'd believe it, our dearest Sun asked 'go out where'."

Dino chuckled lightly, turning to Ryohei and chattering at him. Ryohei looked stiff as a board, eyes burning, even as he tried to grin through the embarrassment. He didn't mean to sound so terse with Dino…well he did. But he was more inclined to vaulting over the couch and throttling Mukuro.

Soon enough though, they moved on, and within the hour Dino was gone, a promise to come over again soon. Brining his young son with him. The door shut with a soft click and the living room was once again just theirs.

"Mukuro!" Ryohei roared, "That was private, why would you choose to EXTREMELY share that?" Ryohei looked devastated, and Mukuro could only blink and grin.

"Was it?" He purred, but he felt his chest constrict with confusion as his eyes flickered around for support and confirmation. "I assumed it was free to share." Though when Ryohei looked terribly pained, Mukuro looked to the ground, confused and hurt himself. His muttered 'sorry for misunderstanding' was taken well though.

Ryohei scrubbed his face and sighed. "Yeah, I know. You EXTREMELY don't understand. Its okay, Mukuro. Just….don't share stories that aren't yours."

Ryohei swept out of the room as did a few of the other guardians and Mukuro was left to sit alone on the couch and wonder what exactly he had done this time. Mukuro could tell that Ryohei was angry, but couldn't really understand why.

He certainly did not appreciate that none of the guardians had stopped to explain it to him either. But, maybe it was Mukuro. Maybe he _should_ have understood it all by now.

* * *

Tsuna found Mukuro later, and the smile on his face would have made Mukuro bristle and rage if it were anyone else, and weren't so welcome.

Understanding, and a tinge of pity. But Mukuro sucked in those emotions like a sponge. Because he was. Because he had been so isolated from all these things for so long that even the smallest, most insignificant emotion given to him –that he could actually _recognize_ –was so welcomed it was like finally finding a comfortable position to sleep in after hours of insomnia.

"Ryohei was pretty upset, are you okay, Mukuro?" Tsuna sat, holding Mukuro's hand in his and rubbing his thumb over the illusionists knuckle. Slightly awkward, but Mukuro wouldn't know if that was just him or not.

At first, once he had been released into the guardians –into Tsuna's care –Mukuro didn't understand the way Tsuna flickered between his guardians the way he did. Why Tsuna insisted on helping, on behind needed. He didn't understand why Tsuna _cared_ if they hurt each other, or if they understood each other. But now, now Mukuro depended on it so much.

Chrome tried her best, she did. But she still saw Mukuro too high on a pedestal, as infallible. _She_ hurt when Mukuro was confused and often forgot that he was still so….new to this life outside of isolation. He could gleam knowledge and understanding off of her interactions, but she too was shy and isolated in herself. Even uneducated and unsolicited as he was, Mukuro knew he was not an introvert. He thrived on the attentions around him.

He thrived on these private moments where Tsuna put all his attentions on Mukuro, asked him if he was okay, and slowly gave Mukuro the tools he needed to go out and get the attentions himself. Without Tsuna, without the patience, and harmony to keep them all together, Mukuro has no doubt that he would have been tossed aside in favour of Chrome long ago. But Tsuna was the sky in this group, Tsuna was able to overflow his harmony and make sure that all of them (civilian, victim, mafia, child, and barely-adult) could come together and transition nicely into their famiglia.

Tsuna made sure –with soft words for some, violent put downs for others –that all of them looked out for each other too. Tsuna wouldn't accept them attacking each other's weaknesses. They were all supposed to be strong for each other, where they were otherwise weak. And they were allowed to be weak. Tsuna never expected infallible.

"I'm fine, Tsunayoshi." Mukuro didn't hiss at him, or pull away like he would have if another were in the room. In these private moments Mukuro let down his guard and opened his mind to the little boss in and let him understand. They'd go back to spitting and threatening when there were others around. "I'm still learning, it would seem."

Mukuro didn't know what else to do, after all, to thank Tsuna for helping him other than letting Tsuna in. Mukuro had a lot to thank Tsuna for; his patience in these matters was the biggest issue of gratitude. Mukuro liked to be flawless, but all it took was Tsuna pulling him aside, a hand on his inner elbow, that allowed Mukuro to back down from that front.

Tsuna smiled, without pity, and with the overflow of love he gave all the others. This, Mukuro appreciated most.

"Its okay, Mukuro." And when Tsuna said it, suddenly it was. Mukuro was starting to actually recognise when he should be –and how awful, that he actually _was_ –embarrassed by his actions, and when people pointed them out, he never could bring himself to be embarrassed when Tsuna pointed things out. "I don't expect you to know, and the others are….learning too. They forget that they were in similar positions just a few years back. They don't want to recognize that they were similar to you, because they've come so far...and because you've come further than they had in a similar amount of time." Tsuna seemed to think on that for a moment, his hand tightening on Mukuro's "That doesn't mean you shouldn't expect them to be there for you though. I will be having words."

Because they had this agreement, this trust. Mukuro needed Tsuna to help him right now, to make sure he wasn't stuck on his own and trying to catch up on basically a lifetime of socialisation; Mukuro needed Tsuna to not laugh, or poke fun at, or get angry at Mukuro's lapses, and to forgive him when he got angry and threatened the worst crime –bodily possession –on the boss of Vongola. And Tsuna needed Mukuro –it was as simple as that.

Mukuro sighed and leant into the couch –thought he'd only ever admit to Tsuna –and in turn leant into Tsuna's shoulder. Relishing in this small, easy interaction that demanded nothing of him.


End file.
